teenage naivete
"how do you actually make a guy - actually - you know - come?" my friend evie asked perplexedly one night in the pub. we were about 15 and evie had just given her third ever hand job the night before.

half of us laughed. the other half laughed more uncertainly, and leaned forward for the answer.

"i thought you'd be good at it," zara said, lighting a fag. "you play so much tennis, your wrists must be really strong."

"no," evie persisted, going redder. "they can get it up fine, but i can't actually make them, you know. come."

bearing in mind we were talking about teenage boys here, most of whom could have come in 15 seconds over the smear of what might have been a breast in the shower screen section of the argos catalogue, we were intrigued.

"show us how you're doing it," suggested sam, passing evie a cigarette on which to demonstrate.

the resulting howls and squeals of laughter got us all thrown out of the pub (the classy "george" on the a6, mrsliveinabin and ihaverunoutofcoke).

basically, she was doing it really really slowly. not sensually - you're talking a handjob round the back of the stockport co-op - just really, really slowly. and loosely. and the longer she went on, the slower she got. no wonder all her blokes had just given up.




then again, i can talk. when i met the first mrswipe at 18, i was so besotted with him, it was untrue. but he was going out with my flatmate and we were just mates. then best mates. we always flirted but nothing happened as we didn't want to ruin the friendship. then we were lying on the sofa one night talking idly about sex and i basically ended up betting him that he wouldn't let me give him a blowie. i virtually begged to be allowed to give a blow job...

and when we moved things into the bedroom - about 3 seconds later - i was too scared to go down there for ages because i was terrified i wouldn't be able to make him get it up. every bit of experience i'd had thus far had taken place after considerable periods of snogging and groping. i honestly thought blokes needed a lot of warm up to get an erection.

that might be true in later life for some guys. but at 18? he'd probably have gotten it up for the hamster if it had looked at him over the rim of its water bottle!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sat 27 Sep 2008, 19:19, 4 replies)

Quite.
I'm reminded of a classic line in Buffy:

Cordelia: "Does looking at guns make you want to have sex?"

Xander: "I'm seventeen. Looking at linoleum makes me want to have sex".
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Sat 27 Sep 2008, 20:04, closed)

Yay!
Buffy points!
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Mon 29 Sep 2008, 17:09, closed)

Click!!
Bonus points for the last line :P

Regarding the whole arousal issue; my personal experience (as a paid-up, card-carrying gayer, [mis]fortunate enough to have a willy) has taught me that simply having a hard-on doesn't mean I'm aroused. Even as a randy teenager, I required.. erm.. stimulation to turn a stiffie into full-blown *titter* sexual zest.

Or maybe I'm dysfunctional.. eep!
(blueberrypossum wants to Jaffa your Cake, Sun 28 Sep 2008, 18:52, closed)

The George
My friends band played to the not-so-mythical One Man and a Dog audience in there. I turned up halfway through, saw what was happening and left before they saw me.

I cant remember the pub I used to go in Stockport, over near the market though, i'l; have to try and drive past one day.

There used to be a pub a few metres up the road, opposite. Sort of on under the bridge, notorious for letting in underage drinkers but but not me. I have a horrific story about trying to get served in there that even B3ta couldnt drag out of me. Well not yet.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Tue 30 Sep 2008, 12:33, closed)